Winter Kill
by sablecain
Summary: ATF/Au- Ezra awakens in the woods with a hostile FBI agent his only ally. He finds out all too soon why he's there but will he survive- unprepared in the elements- until Chris and the team can find him?
1. Chapter 1

_**Winter Kill**_

_Disclaimer: M7 characters are not mine and are only used for fun and mayhem. _

_A/N- this story began last Nov. needless to say I'm thankful to a wonderful Beta like NotTasha who not only is helpful with suggestions and encouragement but doesn't give up on me or my stories. All mistakes are all mine.  
_

_Also- title totally stolen from C.J. Box. His 'WinterKill' is next on my list to read in his series but the title just seemed to work for me and my inability to come up with one of my own. No copyright infringement intended with it's use._

_Hope you enjoy the story. _

_

* * *

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The shivering woke him. The bone rattling shudders assaulted his body and shook him to the core. He was freezing.

Blinking sluggish eyes open, Ezra stared at the brilliant clear blue sky above him. A single tree branch reached into the view, barren of leaves and swaying in the chilly breeze, its finger like tendrils stretched high. Rushing water flowed somewhere close by as the numbing cold seeped up from underneath him.

Twisting his head, his pillow of leaves rustled noisily. Pain assailed him, the dull throbbing headache spiking in intensity as dizziness washed over him.

What had happened?

Where was he?

Why was he here?

Questions raced as he struggled to sit up. His fingers sunk into the frost-covered dirt. He looked down at the icy mix and blinked again, rubbing his numb fingers on his thighs.

His mind started to clear with the movement.

Brennan.

Glancing around Ezra found the other man, curled into a near fetal position, shivering as uncontrollably as he was.

"Brennan." Standish's voice was harsh and raw. "Brennan, wake up."

He could see the bruise at the other man's temple and tentatively reached up to examine his own head. He winced as he made contact with his own injury. That explained the headache.

Carefully, slowly, he forced his cold, cramped limbs to move. He awkwardly scooted closer to the FBI agent and lightly shook him. "Brennan."

Brennan grunted and roused quickly, defensively moving away from Ezra. In one movement, he went from curled on the ground to crouched and ready to pounce on any threat. He swayed dangerously.

Ezra reached out to steady him, but Brennan swatted his hand away. "Get away from me."

Surprised, Ezra backed off and pushed himself to his feet, testing his balance as he went. When he was sure he could stay upright he looked at Brennan again.

"What happened?"

"That's what I should ask you," Brennan shot back angrily. "What the hell were you doing on my case?"

Ezra controlled his anger and kept his face expressionless. "Your case?"

"You're such a damn hot dogger, Standish." Brennan pushed himself to his feet so he could face Ezra. "Why anyone still keeps you around is beyond me."

Standish watched Brennan swipe at his mud-covered jeans for a moment, noting the constant shivering. Brennan was dressed as he was, jeans, a button down shirt and loafers. None of it the correct attire for tramping around in the Colorado woods in January. They were in big trouble.

Concentrating, Ezra wrapped his arms tightly around his torso and glanced around them, squinting in the sun. The rushing water was a nearby stream, just a few feet in front of them. They needed to stay out of that. To each side, the trees thickened, while behind them a sheer hillside stretched upwards. They were left with two options; they could either go down to the left…or up to the right.

"This all your fault," Brennan accused, obviously impatient with Ezra's silence.

"I believe you are the one that showed up in the middle of my case and blew my cover." Ezra kept his voice level. Shouting at each other would get them nowhere. He wasn't sure what happened. He'd been undercover on the Little case for over a week, living in Maxwell Little's mansion and trying to find the evidence needed to bust the man on weapons smuggling. This morning he'd walked into the man's study and found Brennan sitting opposite Max. He'd immediately recognized the agent from previous cases when their ATF and FBI teams had worked together. He had managed to hide his reaction, covering by taking a sip of coffee, but it wasn't enough.

Brennan, shocked at Ezra's arrival, had blurted out a confused, "What the hell are you doing here?"

It was too much for Ezra to recover from. Brennan hadn't been undercover. He'd been sent by the FBI to question Little.

The next thing Ezra remembered was waking up in the wilderness.

"I was there to question Little," Brennan spit out. "I didn't know you were there."

"What'd you think I was doing there?" Ezra questioned.

"I don't know. Maybe you're working with the man."

Ezra's anger flared, but he made no move at Brennan. Good Lord, when was Atlanta going to stop haunting his career and reputation? He was sick of it.

"It doesn't matter now." Brennan glanced around. "He let us go."

Huffing at the other man's statement, Ezra shook his head. "He dumped us in the woods with no supplies, no coats and no way to call for help."

"Better than killing us outright."

"No, because it's so much better to die slowly from hypothermia." Ezra couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Geez, you're a wuss," Brennan turned around. "If we head north," he pointed up the sheer hill.

Ezra closed his eyes. "You're not getting up that hill in those shoes."

"I can damn well try," Brennan yelled. "What's your idea?"

Looking around again, Ezra tried to figure out where they were. He'd been in the woods many times since joining Team 7. Vin had a habit of taking them on 'educational' hikes at least once a year and as much as Ezra griped and pretended to hate them…he tried to pay some attention. This though, he glanced up at the clear sky. He had no clue.

"Either we go West or East. Stay out of the water, follow the stream one way or another. It's got to lead us to some recognizable landmark."

"You hope."

"Yeah, I do."

"Who made you boss anyway?" Brennan complained as he dragged his hands through his black hair.

"You asked my idea, I was giving it. Fighting is not going to get us out of here. We need to work together."

"I'm not doing anything with you."

Ezra opened his mouth to say 'fine' when Brennan jerked back suddenly, the top half of his head exploding in a spray of bone and blood.

"Brennan!" Shock and horror rocked through Standish even as he knew there was no saving the FBI man. It was too late. He hadn't even heard the shot.

Another shot hit the ground right beside Ezra's feet followed by another that nearly caught Ezra's left arm.

"Shit."

Willing his sluggish legs into motion, Ezra weaved between trees. Three more shots followed, hitting trees and leaves around him. His feet slipped and slid on the leaf-covered ground, his loafers offering no traction but he managed to stay upright, grabbing trees and pulling himself up and deeper into the woods.

There was no time to register the horror of what just happened, only the reality that if he didn't run he would face the same fate as Brennan.

So he ran.

* * *

Sitting at his desk with the morning sun shining brightly through his office windows, Chris was feeling good. It was a beautiful day, despite the cold. It was clear and the sun was out and it was Friday. The week was almost over and all they needed to do was get through this day and maybe, they could relax a little bit this weekend.

He flipped open the folder on his desk, figuring he ought to get some work done. Inside the plain manila folder was Ezra's latest report.

Standish.

Worry tickled the back of his neck. Larabee wished Standish was out of the Little case already. He'd been on the inside for nine days now, and that was too long for Larabee's comfort. He didn't like being this much out of contact for this long. Too many cases had gone wrong that way. Thank god for modern technology though. At least the regular reports and check ins via cell phone and internet helped belay some of Chris' concerns. Problem was, you couldn't read Ezra's expression through an email or hear the tone of his voice in a text.

Sure, not many people could do either of those when they were standing face to face with Standish, but Larabee could…the team could.

Skimming over the pages, Chris managed a smile. Damn, but Standish was good at his job. There was a list of dates that Standish had managed to lift off Little's computer. It wouldn't be long now and they'd have locations as well, then they could set up a sting, take the man down and get Ezra home.

A knock on his door had Chris looking up. "Yeah,"

Concern filled him at the look on Vin Tanner's face. "What?"

"Got company, Cowboy." He gestured over his shoulder. "Fibbies."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Flipping the folder closed, Larabee leaned back in his chair. "Bring 'em in."

He watched the two FBI agents file into his office, followed by Vin. Tanner stood back and out of the way and neither of the men in dark suits even recognized his presence in the room. Larabee didn't bother to stand.

"How can I help the FBI today?" He managed to keep the disdain he felt for the entire bureau out of his voice.

"I'm Darren Peters and this is Mark Dorsey."

"We need to discuss the Little case," the one introduced as Dorsey told him.

Leaning forward, Chris' eyes narrowed. "What about our case?"

"We sent one of our men in to question Maxwell Little yesterday, late afternoon. We haven't heard from him since then. We thought with you having a man inside right now, maybe you could…"

"You knew we had a man inside?" Chris felt his anger and worry deepening.

"Of course," Peters answered as if it was logical they would know.

"And you sent your man in anyway?"

"It was unrelated to your current investigation," Peters explained. "Brennan was questioning Little about money laundering allegations. Has nothing to do with your man."

"But now your man is missing?"

The two agents exchanged a look before Dorsey reluctantly answered. "Yes. Agent Brennan never reported in after his chat with Little."

Vin slipped out of the office.

Chris stared at the two agents in front of him. "What do you think happened?"

"We don't know. We're hoping if you could contact Agent Standish, maybe he could tell us what happened between Brennan and Little," Dorsey explained.

"You know who we have inside?"

Neither man answered.

"Damn it." Chris stood. "Wait here."

He left them sitting there and hurried to Vin's desk. Vin was bent over his phone.

"Anything?" Chris asked.

"Just sent a 911 text to him. Let's give him a minute to answer." Vin looked past Larabee at the FBI agents in the inner office. "What do you think?"

"I think we've got trouble," Chris admitted. He looked around the outer office. Buck and JD were in records getting a file for their next case. Josiah was in a meeting with Team 3 and Nathan was getting re-certified for his advanced first aid training. They were all over the place but he knew with one phone call they'd all come running.

"Damn."

Vin stood. "He's not answering his text. He always answers a 911 immediately."

"Call him direct."

Chris waited as Vin tried the call and knew immediately that it didn't go through.

"Straight to voice mail."

Ezra never turned his phone off when he was under. If he did, he always found a way to forewarn them.

An icy fear crawled up Chris' spine. Ezra was in trouble.

_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all so much for the encouraging reviews!_

_note to sackofnachos- no, this is a completely new story, though I'm sure the concept of one of the seven being hunted through the wilderness is not new at all. It has been done before. Hopefully this story will still be entertaining and not come too close to being the same as any others out there. Any other similarities are purely coincidental_

Part 2

One foot in front of the other. Ezra forced his legs to keep moving. Up through the trees, down around a rock formation. He knew he had no sense of direction. He knew he was letting himself be…herded. Panic kept rational thought from entering his mind. When he slowed down, all he could see was Brennan, standing there, sneering at him before half of his head blew off.

God.

There had been no shots fired behind him in the last few minutes, but Ezra had no doubt that Little was out there. He should have known as soon as he woke up beside the creek that this was the scenario. Little was twisted.

Great stuffed animal heads lined the gun runner's study. Bear, moose, buck…they were all there, mounted on gleaming walnut plaques, their beady glassy eyes stared down at any occupant. Little took great pride in describing how he'd bagged each kill himself. He was a hunter.

Ezra was his prey.

A sharp pain in his side doubled Ezra over and forced him to pause behind a close cluster of trees. Frantically, he searched the terrain he'd already climbed through, but he saw and heard nothing. His loud gasps filled the chilled air as he struggled to get rid of his cramp and catch his breath. He didn't know how long he could go on this way.

The sun had warmed the morning, but in the woods, it was cold and damp. His shirt, wet from where he'd laid on the frost-covered ground, stuck to his back. His jeans were caked in mud and leaves. His feet were frozen. If Little kept him out here much longer… If he didn't find help…If he didn't make it to safety before nightfall…

Ezra pushed the doubts out of his head. He swallowed a sob as Brennan's death replayed in his mind again. He couldn't get rid of the image. Did he have Brennan's blood on him? He didn't have time to check.

Scattered, frightened and lost…Ezra heard a crack behind him. The sharp sound echoed through the forest. It hadn't sounded like a gunshot and yet…bark splintered off the tree to his right. It caught him, slicing into his right arm and stabbing into his back. Ignoring the burning pain, he started running again.

* * *

"So wait a minute," Agent Dorsey looked perturbed. "Just because you can't reach your undercover man the first time you call, you want to go into Little's place with guns blazing?"

"You've already lost your agent," Vin pointed out. "Now we can't contact ours."

"That doesn't mean we should automatically assume the worst." Peters stood and paced beside Chris' office window.

"What do you suggest we do then?" Chris demanded. He had already sent out 911 texts to the rest of the team. JD and Buck had gotten there first, glad to be free of searching through old files, and Josiah had arrived next. Travis, who'd been in the meeting with Team 3, was curious about what was going on, but Chris would have to call him later. The group hovered near enough to Chris' office door to listen in but stay out of the way. They were still waiting for Nathan.

"We should wait," Dorsey answered.

"You haven't had any contact with Brennan since last night and it was just a routine questioning?" Josiah stepped into the room, obviously done with waiting. "You're worried enough to show up here and admit you've screwed with our case."

"They were separate investigations!" Peters defended, spinning away from the window. "We told you that."

"You should have told us before you sent Brennan in there," Josiah shouted back. "Did HE know that Ezra was in there undercover? He's worked with Ezra before."

The two FBI agents exchanged a look that had Vin swearing. "You sent him in without telling him Ezra was under."

"Fools." Josiah turned to Chris. "We can't wait on them. Brennan isn't an undercover agent, he was never trained for it. One look at Ezra…who's to say he was able to keep Ezra's cover? This is a mess."

"Brennan is a damn good agent," Dorsey protested.

"I didn't say he wasn't!" Josiah advanced, stopping only when Vin grabbed his arm. "I said he wasn't trained for undercover work. Hell, neither am I. If I was questioning a suspect, in his home, and another agent walked in I'd probably be so surprised I'd do something stupid like ask him what he was doing there. Have you considered that?"

The room fell silent.

Chris heard JD and Buck whispering and realized that Nathan had arrived and they were bringing him up to speed.

* * *

Ezra hit an incline and struggled to climb it. He slipped and slid, his knees scraping on the hard cold ground. His jeans and skin tore.

Blood ran down his right arm. It had soaked his shirtsleeve and dripped from both his elbow and his fingers. He ignored the trail he left behind. He had no time to try and cover it up. His back burned and ached with each step, each stretch forward.

He knew he'd have to stop again soon. His side wouldn't let him keep going. His legs were so heavy. He needed a break.

Struggling, Ezra made it to the top of the small hill. There was a large grouping of rocks that he ducked behind. He knew he shouldn't stop. Little was out there, coming after him. Little would take him down the same way he'd taken out Brennan. Mercilessly.

In the nine days Standish had worked with Little, he'd gotten to know the man enough to know that the criminal had a lethal reputation. He didn't offer mercy. The fact that Ezra was still alive right now…was just to give Little more of a thrill before he finally killed him.

He was going to die out here.

Burrowing further into the tiny cove of rocks, Ezra turned his attention away from death and tried to treat his arm. Tiny shards of tree trunk had torn into his bicep like shrapnel. He didn't have water to wash it out. He didn't have anything he could tie off the bleeding with. He couldn't afford to tear up his shirt. It was the only thing providing any shielding against the cold. He left the wound alone.

What was he going to do now? He needed to regroup and have a plan. His fear was controlling him and he needed to shake it off. Yet…he couldn't. He kept seeing Brennan.

He needed help. Searching his pockets on the off chance he'd missed it. Ezra frowned. No phone, not that it'd work out in the middle of nowhere. Still…if he had it and had it on- maybe JD could get a fix on him.

He wasn't due to check in until late this afternoon though. Wiping filthy hands across his face, Ezra swallowed back another wave of emotion. The Team didn't even know he was in trouble. Not yet. God, he needed their help. He tried to remember what Vin had told him about traversing through the woods in the cold, but his mind just refused to cooperate. Should he hide or should he keep going?

Hiding would leave him a sitting duck. Little was pushing him this direction, which meant Little knew this area, and this terrain. If he tried to double back, God only knew how many men Little had out here to keep him on the run. And, he didn't even know where doubling back would leave him. Maybe he should have stuck by the stream-he was so thirsty- but there hadn't been time to think of his options.

If he'd stopped to think, he'd be dead.

Not wanting to, Ezra forced himself to leave his protective burrow. He knew that Little was in control of this game. This hunt. If he stayed there in the rocks, he'd either freeze to death or he'd be found and killed.

Little's descriptions of his kills raced through his memory. Max had smiled as he'd described whether he'd shot an animal outright, or if he'd used his hunting knife to take them out after they were wounded.

Is that the plan Little had for him, Ezra wondered? To wound him and run him to ground before he took his knife and sliced his neck open? Would he stand there and smile as Ezra bled to death in front of him?

Shivering with renewed panic and cold, Ezra hurried through the trees again, trying to make sure he kept the trees at his back, pausing only when he could duck against a trunk for cover.

He needed to keep moving and maybe, eventually, he could figure out a plan.

* * *

Dorsey and Peters were discussing options between themselves when one of their phones rang.

"We're wasting time," Vin murmured to Chris.

"I know." Chris turned away from the FBI men, "Have Josiah call Travis. Explain that we've got reason to believe Ezra's cover's been blown and we're going out to find him."

"What about a warrant?" Vin asked, knowing they couldn't just storm into Little's home.

"We're just going to ask Little some questions." Chris flashed a grin that held no humor.

"Uh," Dorsey looked pale as he interrupted them.

"Oh God." Chris heard JD's sharp intake of breath. They could all see the bad news on Dorsey's face.

"What?"

Dorsey fumbled with his phone. "We got an anonymous call."

"And."

"It's a report of a body in the woods."

Buck cleared his throat garnering their attention. "Little owns more than a hundred acres up in the mountains. He uses the property for hunting."

"JD, transfer all our calls to the SAT phone. Let's go," Chris ordered. He didn't care what the FBI planned on doing. He was going after his man. He only hoped now that he wasn't too late.

_TBC..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Part 3_

It was getting colder. Ezra's shivers had turned to shudders as he plodded onward. He kept heading North, not knowing at all what awaited him.

The trees began to thin and Ezra's heart began racing. He couldn't lose his only chance for cover. There'd been no shots from Little since the incident in with the tree, but Ezra knew he couldn't believe he was safe. Every fiber of his being knew he was being led by the hunter.

As the trees ended abruptly, Standish found himself in a tiny clearing. A small, dilapidated cottage stood in front of him. It was a trap. He knew it,but he needed to check it out all the same.

Carefully, Ezra approached. There was no sign that anyone had occupied the cabin in a long time. With trembling fingers, Ezra grasped the doorknob and turned. It was unlocked.

The cabin was dark inside, too deep into the woods for any real light to brighten it. Its windows were tiny and crusted with dirt and grime. The layout was simple. A bed against the south wall, a kitchenette and crooked table filled the western wall, and to the north, a sagging sofa. Ezra reached first for the counter. Six bottles of water were arranged in a neat row. Another sign of a trap but he was way too thirsty to care.

Unscrewing one bottle, he stuffed another into his back pocket and gulped the cool contents. He downed the entire bottle before he looked around the room again. A small footlocker at the end of the bed caught his attention. Hurriedly, Ezra knelt in front of it. Inside he found an old sweatshirt. He pulled it on over his blood-crusted shirt. Beneath the sweatshirt, lay a satellite phone.

Ezra trembled as he reached for it. Its presence confirming that this was a giant set up. Who left a phone lying around for anyone to find in an unlocked cabin in the middle of nowhere?

Swallowing his fear and growing panic, Ezra grabbed the phone and dialed Chris' number.

* * *

Chris and Vin followed Agents Dorsey and Peters as they hiked through the woods. Behind them, the rest of the team followed. On any other day it would have been a perfect day for a hike.

Ahead of them, a mix of FBI and local police waited for them. They had driven up into the hills, caravanning behind the Fibbies, their worry growing as they neared their destination.

A body in the woods.

Whose body?

No one wanted to find a federal agent dead,but Chris couldn't fathom the idea that it might be Ezra. They'd been through too much already. He glanced at Vin as they walked now. The sun reflected off Tanner's sunglasses, hiding his expression.

"He'll be okay, cowboy," Tanner assured, reading Chris despite his own shades.

"He better be."

They could see the waiting group of law enforcement now, standing around in a circle. Near them, a blue tarp covered a body.

The rushing stream sounded deafening all of the sudden and Chris stumbled on the rocky terrain. He caught himself before he went down.

"You okay?" He heard Buck ask.

He nodded.

Peters and Dorsey moved ahead, quickening their pace.

"What have we got?" Dorsey asked before they'd even reached the waiting group.

Another agent turned and frowned. "It's Brennan."

Even as relief flooded Larabee, he felt the burden of grief that settled over Peters and Dorsey. He could see their shoulders slump lower. They'd lost one of their own.

"Any sign of Standish?" Dorsey questioned, emotion evident in his voice.

The local man shook his head. "Nope."

Chris' phone rang causing everyone to freeze and stare at him.

Casually, he pulled out the satellite phone and answered.

"Larabee."

"Chris."

"Ezra where are you?" Chris could hear the desperation in Ezra's voice.

Everyone seemed to step closer to Larabee.

"I don't know. Chris, he's hunting me. He…he killed Brennan." Ezra was talking faster, his words slurring together, heavy with fear and emotion. "I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'm headed. Brennan's dead. He shot him. His head…" Ezra's voice broke.

"Easy Ezra, slow down." Chris gripped the phone tighter, unused to hearing his emotionally reserved, always in control teammate break down. "Are you hurt?"

"Brennan's dead."

"I know Ez," Chris tried to be calming. "We've found him."

"God."

"Listen to me, which direction did you go? Where are you now?"

"He's hunting me. Little is. He shot Brennan and then started shooting at me." Ezra swallowed another sob. "He's herding me."

"Which way?"

"Up, he's steering me up."

"Where is he?" Dorsey interrupted, but Chris held up a hand cutting him off. "Don't shush me, my man is dead. Where the hell is your guy?"

Vin stepped in front of Dorsey and crossed his arms. "Back off so we can get the info and tell you."

Chris refocused on Ezra. "Where are you now?"

"A cabin. I don't know how far from the stream. I just…I don't think I went straight up, I don't know. I'm so confused. I found the cabin and the phone."

"Shit."

"I know, I know," Ezra acknowledged. "It's a trap."

"You need to get out of there, Ezra. Head…" he snapped his finger at Buck, knowing Wilmington had the maps of Little's property.

Buck was already a step ahead of him, studying the map with Nathan and Josiah, using JD's back as a table.

"There could be a cabin anywhere," Josiah pointed out. "No way to know for sure."

Chris and Vin moved closer.

"We're here," Vin found their position immediately.

"He headed up," Chris said.

His eyes raced across the map, searching for anything that could get them to Ezra sooner. Little had way too big a start on them. So much closer to Ezra, hunting him. They were never going to catch up to him. They needed to come up with a different plan.

"Ezra?"

"Yeah?"

"Need you to head west."

"I'm so cold, Chris." Ezra's voice was a low whisper. "I don't know that I…"

"Don't you dare, Standish. Don't you dare give up on me."

"I just…"

"You can and will do this. Head west and I'll come find you."

"Chris…"

"Trust me."

"I…"

Explosions rocked through the phone causing Chris to automatically move it away from his ear for an instant.

"Ezra?" he shouted into the device as he listened to the gunfire on the other end. "Ezra!"

There was no answer. The phone went dead.

"Oh my God." JD starred at the phone in Chris' hands. They'd all heard the noise.

Vin was studying the map. "You sent him west?" he questioned.

"Yeah."

"There's nothing there. It dead ends in a sheer cliff right here." Buck pointed to the spot on the map.

"And that's where we'll be."

"You think he can make it?" Nathan asked. "The gunshots…"

"He'll make it," Chris told them, closing up the phone and tucking it back into his jacket. "He will make it."

_TBC..._


	4. Chapter 4

_again, I thank you all very much for the encouraging reviews._

_Part 4_

The sound of Chris' voice on the other end of the phone was enough to unravel the fragile grasp Ezra was maintaining on his emotions.

Lost as he was in the chilly dim cabin, hunted and alone, Chris represented strength and safety. Larabee had been the man who reached out to Ezra in the middle of the Atlanta debacle and despite the fall out, had given Ezra a chance…and a second one.

Larabee and Team 7 had come to Ezra's rescue. More than that, they'd become family and now, in his desperation,Ezra was reaching out to them, begging them to save him again.

Chris' reassurances weren't enough to calm Ezra's heightened fear or panic. He flinched at Larabee's command to not give up. He didn't know if he could keep going. He needed to explain—he wasn't running out on Chris. He was just so tired. So cold.

His vision blurred with weariness and tears and he hated himself for his weakness.

"I…" he started to tell Chris he wasn't running out on him when the world exploded around him.

Bullets tore into the cabin, splintering the thin wooden walls. Too many to be from just a single shooter, Ezra wondered if Little had an army with him.

Glass shattered from the windows. Shards rained down on Ezra as he scrambled to find cover.

The phone exploded in his hand, breaking two of his fingers in the process.

He screamed and slithered across the floor.

A side window, broken and jagged was his only way out as bullets continued to rake the other three walls of the shack. For an instant, Ezra considered giving up. Was he only being herded again?

Chris' voice shouted through his doubts. "Trust me."

West. Chris had said to keep going west and he would find him.

Taking a deep breath for courage and strength, Ezra jumped up and threw himself out of the broken window. Glass sliced at his sides, cutting through his jeans and tearing up his thighs but he rolled to his feet and darted into the woods.

He had to go west. Chris would be there.

* * *

They were grouped around the map, still using JD as a table, searching for a way to get to Ezra before Little ended the hunt.

"You sent him west," Josiah said again, his finger tracing the western ridge that ended in a bluff of cliffs.

"There's no way we can get in front of him or around Little's men." Vin ran a hand through his hair as he looked up and at the woods. "Woods are too thick and there's no roads carved out on the property."

Buck poked the map, ignoring JD's protest. "How we gonna keep him from running off the cliff? Little's gonna be able to trap him there."

"We're not," Larabee said finally. He turned and walked directly up to Agent Peter's. "We need a chopper."

"What?" Peters looked shocked at the demand.

"A chopper. It'll take too long for Travis to arrange one for us. I know you have the ability to provide one now. We need it."

"No way." Peters shook his head. "No way in hell I'm giving you anything until you tell us what the hell is going on with Standish. What happened to Brennan?"

Chris glared, but answered without hesitation. "Little shot Brennan and is hunting Ezra."

Dorsey stepped up beside Peters. "What do you mean 'hunting'?"

"I mean,run or I'll shoot you where you stand hunting…which is exactly what he did to Brennan." Chris gestured at the tarp-covered body.

"All we have is your agent's word that…"

Chris advanced so fast Dorsey had no time to defend himself. Larabee grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close. "Don't you dare question my agent's word," he hissed.

"He left Brennan behind in the dirt." Dorsey refused to be intimidated.

"He had no choice." Chris shoved the FBI agent away from him, trying to control his temper. He'd feel the same way if the positions had been reversed. He knew that, but he was tired of everyone always assuming the worst about Ezra first.

Sighing heavily, Chris wiped his hands over his face before continuing. "Look, Standish is shaken and scared. Brennan was shot down in front of him and now he's running for his life. It sounds like he's been hurt as well and, from how Brennan was dressed, he's not prepared for the elements either. We need to get to him before Little does."

Peters cleared his throat. "How do we know we can?"

"We don't," Buck cut in. "But we need to try."

"I need a chopper," Chris reiterated.

Peters thought for another moment before turning to Dorsey. "You stay here and get Brennan out of here. Rescue and recovery are on their way in. I'll take them back and get them a chopper." He looked at Chris. "It's gonna take time. You better hope your man has it together enough to stay out Little's aim long enough for us to get in there."

* * *

It was snowing. Big fluffy snowflakes floated lazily down around him. It was like a scene from a Christmas special or a snow globe. The beauty of it seemed incongruous and completely wrong for his situation.

Ezra's feet felt like they were weighted with bricks as he trudged along in the flurries. His skin was so numb he was surprised that the flakes landing on him actually melted away. His legs dragged with each step, pulling and burning as the blood from his cuts continued to ooze. His fingers throbbed in time with his racing heartbeat.

All he wanted to do was stop. He wanted to curl up against a wide tree and watch the snow until he drifted to sleep, but he knew he couldn't.

He forced himself to take another step and another. He tried to listen, straining for any sound of the hunters behind him. He had no idea where he was. He only knew he had to keep going west. He hoped to God he had his directions right. He thought he did, but he couldn't be positive.

He couldn't be sure about anything at the moment. The wind picked up, blowing the snow into his face. Plastering his wet, frozen clothing against him.

Ezra curled his arms tight around his middle, tucking his blue finger up under his arms. He took another step and imagined himself at Chris' ranch sitting in front of the roaring fire. So close he'd be too warm. He wasn't sure that was ever going to be possible again. He ached to his bones with cold. He'd always thought that was an exaggeration, but seeing that he could no longer even flex his fisted fingers, he believed it now. Bone chilling was an understatement. This was bone freezing. Bone paralyzing.

His foot caught on a root and Ezra went down. Slowed from the cold, he didn't get his hands out to break his fall and hit the ground hard. He lay there on the freezing ground, pain radiating through his entire body. For a moment, it just felt good to stop. To forget that if he didn't move again he was going to die. Would he freeze to death before Little found him? If Little did find him, would he make his death quick?

He saw Brennan lurching backwards from the head shot again. Brennan hadn't felt anything at all. One minute he was cursing out Ezra and the next, he was just gone. Would it be that way for him? Ezra wondered? Would Little choose to take him out instantly or would he make it slow and drag his death out?

He couldn't think about it. He didn't want to. He had to get up.

Instead, Ezra listened to the woods and watched the snow landing on his arm, slowly covering his swollen and purpling hand in a thin white layer until his eyes drifted closed.

_tbc..._


	5. Chapter 5

_your reviews bring a smile to my gloomy evening! thank you!_

Part 5

Chris paced between two four-wheel drives, glancing up occasionally to glare at Peters as the agent held an animated phone conversation. It had taken the team plus Peters nearly an hour to hike back out to where the vehicles had been parked. Time they didn't have. Ezra needed them now.

Larabee tried not to think about the sounds of gunfire. He'd heard the blasts. He'd heard the chilling thunk and the crash of bullets shattering wood. God, what if Ezra had been hit? What if they were already too late? Frustrated with his worry as much as he was the wait, Chris shook the thoughts away and looked up as Josiah approached.

"You fill Travis in?" he asked the profiler.

"Yeah, he said to do whatever you need to do. Figured you would anyway, so might as well give you free rein."

Chris chuckled. Travis was finally starting to figure the team out. Reining them in with rules never worked, especially not when one of their own was in need.

Josiah huffed out a breath and wiped his hand through the ever-thickening layer of snow on the hood of one truck.

Chris watched the older man rub the snow between reddened fingers and knew exactly what Sanchez was thinking.

Ezra hated the cold.

Brennan's body had not had a coat or any weather appropriate provisions with it. Chris doubted Ezra did either.

"Don't give up, brother," Josiah whispered making Chris wonder if Sanchez was talking to him…or Ezra.

* * *

Ezra blinked, suddenly aware again of the cold and pain that wracked his body. Something or someone was moving nearby.

Was this the end?

Covered in a light layer of snow, Ezra knew he was still visible. He should hop up and run again, take off into the thickest grouping of trees and do his best to hide. He just didn't think he could move.

Maybe Little would think he was dead already and just leave him where he was.

The crunch of another step so close to him, he flinched. Something touched his side.

Don't move. He repeated the mantra to himself over and over again. Would Little be this slow to approach? From what he knew of the man, Little would shoot his corpse just to make sure he was dead, then kick him over to confirm it.

Two more steps and Ezra saw hooves, connected to delicate and deceptively thin legs lined with short brown hair. A nose sniffed at his arm, nudging him lightly and displacing the snow.

A deer.

Standish didn't know much about the animals, but he knew enough that the absence of antlers/horns - whatever they were called - meant this was probably a female. A doe.

He watched her continue to sniff at his bloody, snow-covered arm. Were deer scavengers? He wondered doubtfully. Most likely she was just curious.

He wanted to speak to her. To say, "hey there girl what are you doing out here?" but figured that'd be ridiculous. He would only scare her and lose the brief, unexpected comfort of her company.

Ezra wanted to warn her that it wasn't safe to stay by him. There are hunters out here, he thought.

She looked him over, unintimidated by his open eyes. Instead of running, she stepped even closer, her head dipped and he felt her nose touch the side of his face.

He held his breath, afraid again that he would frighten her by even exhaling. Her nose nuzzled his hair and he smiled faintly. It sort of tickled.

Suddenly, the air changed and his deer jumped back a step, her head up. Ezra watched her weigh her choices before suddenly looking at him, then she darted deeper into the woods.

Someone was coming.

It was enough to give Ezra the strength to push himself stiffly up off the ground and scurry clumsily into the woods after her.

* * *

"Choppers five minutes out." Peters' voice cut through Chris' worry.

Larabee looked up from the map. "And."

"There are some conditions."

"Of course there are." Buck stepped up beside Chris. "What are they?"

"FBI flies the chopper."

"Okay." Larabee knew Josiah was capable, but it wasn't worth the fight.

"We go in and get him," Peters continued.

"Oh, hell no," Buck exclaimed.

"No." Larabee shook his head.

"It's the only way they'd agree to send the chopper. The FBI recovers Standish," Peters argued.

"That's not going to happen," Chris growled. "I promised him I was coming to get him. I am going and my team is going with me."

Peters continued to shake his head. "Look, you don't get it. Our man is dead. Your man is the only witness we have who can tell us what happened. We are going in for him."

Chris found himself stepping closer to Peters. Peters was taller, but he cowered in front of Larabee even as he tried to stand his ground. "I don't think you get it, Peters. I'm not letting you or any other FBI agent get their hands on my agent. He'll tell you what happened after I get him to safety and take down Little."

"I can't let you just…"

"You don't have any choice." Vin stepped up on the other side of Peters. "We're going."

"I have to be on that chopper or it won't get off the ground."

Larabee looked at Peters for a long measuring moment. The chopper was visible now, almost directly over them. Its blades whipped up dirt and gravel from the seasonal use only road.

"Fine. You and the pilot stay on the chopper. Tanner and Jackson come with us." Chris knew he had to compromise.

Peters looked like he wanted to argue further,but the chopper had touched down and Chris was already waving Vin and Nathan towards it. Instead, he nodded and followed Larabee, ducking under the spinning blades and quickly explaining to the agents on board that they were being left behind.

As Vin and Nathan boarded the copter, Larabee turned to JD, Buck and Josiah. "You stay here and let me know if anything changes," he ordered tapping the Sat phone attached to his belt.

"Just bring him home!" Buck shouted over the helicopter's noise.

Chris nodded and climbed aboard the chopper.

"Let's go."

_tbc..._


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

West. The word resounded in Ezra's head with each staggering step forward. He needed to keep going west. With his head down and injured hand pulled protectively against his chest, he reached blindly forward with the good hand, grasping the rough bark of a tree and pulling his deadened legs onward**.** Oblivious to the cold, he didn't notice the way the skin on his fingers tore or his fingernails shredded as the snow continued to fall. He just kept plodding in a lurching rhythm from tree to tree. Heading west.

Ezra tried not to think about the sounds echoing behind him. He could hear the voices now. He could hear the crunch of heavy booted footsteps through the fresh layer of snow. He was leaving a trail that a novice could follow and the hunters were catching up to him quickly.

The trees thinned suddenly, making it difficult to keep his awkward pace. It forced him to look up and try to make heads or tails of his surroundings. He didn't know anything about the terrain here. He only knew that Chris had given him a direction and he had followed it. Now though, as he looked out beyond the tree line, his heart stopped.

There was nothing.

A wide open expanse of nothing that melded into the sky where the earth disappeared and the clouds began.

It was a dead end.

He was trapped.

* * *

"How far out?" Chris questioned the pilot for the third time in under ten minutes.

"Three." The pilot scowled but answered without complaint. From the look of the men in the chopper with him, he decided it was better not to cause any trouble. They looked ready for a fight.

Chris looked worried as he scanned the area. He could see their destination now that the chopper had cleared the mountainside. He knew they were audible. Little would hear and see them coming in. He just hoped they could get to Ezra before Little did.

"Hell!" Peters swore as they flew closer to the coordinates Chris had given them. "There's nothing there. We can't land there."

"Who said anything about landing?" Vin asked, already strapping into the harness he would use for the operation.

"You have got to be kidding me." Peters shook his head. "No way. Turn this thing around," he ordered the pilot.

Chris leaned forward, making sure the pilot could see him as well as hear him over the headset. "You turn this bird around and I'll throw you out and fly it myself," he growled. "You understand?"

The pilot threw a look at Chris and then at Peters. "Understood. What do you need?"

"Keep her steady and do as I say." Chris said. "You got a camera on this thing?"

"Sure do."

"Then start recording now." Chris turned to Vin, ignoring Peters' indignant sputtering.

"You're crazy! This will never work. You're gonna get us all killed!"

Vin looked up from the straps as Chris and Nathan double-checked them and the cables for him. "You can shut up anytime now, Peters."

* * *

Ezra moved beyond the trees and into the clearing. A shot rang out behind him and he scurried behind a low boulder, hunching down as low as he was able.

Chris had said to go west and now…

He heard the chopper then and glanced to the south. The bird was coming in low, but as he scanned the clearing, he knew…there wasn't room enough or time to land. He could hear the shots from the forest behind him.

How was he going to get out of this one?

* * *

"You ready?" Chris asked.

"As ever," Vin answered.

"There's gotta be a better way." Nathan ran a hand over his face as Vin pulled his hair back and wrapped a band around it.

"Yeah, but nothing as fun as this." Tanner grinned and nodded for Larabee to open the door.

* * *

Ezra ducked down further as a shot ricocheted off the rock behind him. The hunters were shooting at him and the copter now. He waved the bird off. It was too late for him. They needed get out of here. There was no way they could land and if they tried to come any closer or hovered near him so he could climb aboard…they were going to get shot, too. He didn't know if the men behind him had weapons powerful enough to take out the helicopter, but he didn't want to risk the men on board.

He waved again when he saw the side door slide open.

Chris.

Through the snow, Ezra signaled again for them to turn back, but even from a distance, he knew Larabee was glaring at him. And then…Vin was out of the bird, hanging nearly upside down as he slid down a safety line and dangled in the snowy air.

Ezra blinked, unsure if he could believe what he was seeing. He met Chris' gaze again.

"Come on!" Chris mouthed and waved him on, even as he raised his gun to fight off the hunters coming up behind Standish.

Without hesitation, Ezra pushed to his feet. He stumbled the first few steps and then found his balance, running and slipping across the snowy field. Behind him, he heard angry shouting but he didn't look back. He focused only on Vin.

He heard the gunfire. He felt the snow hitting his icy skin. He ran.

The cliff face was coming up on him fast, but he kept his eyes on Vin and never slowed. He hit the air in a full speed leap and then he was flying.

* * *

Chris watched as Ezra ran. "Come on. Come on. Come on," he pleaded as he fired at the hunters coming into the field.

"Holy. Shit. ," Peters gasped as Ezra hit the edge of the cliff and leapt into the air without even slowing.

Chris held his breath.

* * *

Ezra soared and then Vin had him. Both hands wrapped around one wrist. Ezra screamed as his body jerked in Vin's grasp, but Tanner held on tight.

"Go! " Vin screamed at someone.

Fire tore through Ezra's calf. He yelled again and flung his head back, meeting Vin's eyes.

"I got ya." Vin grunted reassuringly. "I got ya."

Ezra could feel them being hoisted back into the chopper. He could hear the deafening sound of the blades overhead. He felt the cold cold wind whipping at him. He watched as Little's men became dots in the field. Cut off by the sheer drop with no way to pursue and then he closed his eyes.

Hands grabbed at his sweatshirt and belt loops and hauled him bodily into the helicopter. He felt Vin's grip adjust as he let go of Ezra's wrist and wrapped his arms around the battered agent, pulling him further away from the cold air that blasted through the still open door.

"Pull him in, pull him in."

"Close that damn door."

"Shit, watch his hand."

"Damn it, they got him in the leg."

The voices slurred together in his head as he struggled to stay conscious and pay attention.

"Hey," Vin's voice sounded over his shoulder. "We got you now. " The grip around his middle tightened and that's when Ezra realized Tanner was still holding on to him.

He probably should have been embarrassed by that, but he didn't have the energy. Instead he tried to focus as Chris leaned into his vision. "He's right, you hear me?"

Ezra blinked and finally managed a small nod.

"Good. Now let us take care of you."

* * *

Chris glanced at Nathan as Ezra's eyes slipped closed.

Nathan didn't bother looking up under the scrutiny. "We need to get him warm and get these wounds treated. Vin, don't you let him go. He needs whatever body heat you can give right now, even clothed."

Chris shrugged off his jacket and tucked it around Ezra and Vin and looked up in surprise when Peters handed his own coat over as well. He nodded his thanks.

"What else do you need?" Peters questioned.

"Just get us to the nearest hospital as fast as you can," Nathan answered.

_tbc..._

_A/N- yes the helicopter scene was pretty much inspired/'borrowed' right out of the movie 'Behind Enemy Lines'. The first time I saw that movie I knew I wanted to put that scene into a fic. It's only taken nearly a decade to do it. _


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

Chris watched as a young nurse adjusted Ezra's IV and then quietly tucked the heated blanket around him. She looked up quickly, realizing Chris was watching her closely. A blush the same pink as the multi sized hearts dotting her baby blue scrubs crept across her cheeks but she continued to tuck the blanket around his sleeping agent before smiling at Chris and slipping out of the room.

Chris shook his head and focused on Ezra, laughing inwardly at Standish's ability to charm women even when he slept. And Ezra did sleep, soundly, the post surgery medications keeping him comfortable and blessedly out of it.

It amazed Larabee that Ezra was doing as well as he was. His agent was torn up, physically and emotionally. Chris couldn't even recall the detailed list of injuries the doctor had rattled off before taking Ez into surgery. He'd focused on the main ones, the hypothermia, the broken fingers, the gunshot wound, the large jagged, shallow cuts down both of his legs… Chris pushed the growing anxiety aside and reminded himself that Ezra was going to be okay, eventually. Had he been left exposed to the harsh elements and blood loss much longer however, it would have been a completely different outcome.

Larabee shivered in sympathy and wished for a heated blanket of his own. He glanced out the window beside him and watched the snow continue to fall, but the room door opening suddenly brought him around. He reached for his weapon before he realized it was Vin and Nathan entering.

"You okay?" He eyed the stark white sling supporting Tanner's right arm.

Vin scowled. "Yeah," he grunted disgustedly. "Don't see the need for this." He motioned at the sling.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "You leave that on like the doctor said or I'll convince him to admit you."

Chris knew it was an empty threat and figured Vin did too, but Tanner acquiesced all the same.

"Dislocated?"

"It was." Jackson affirmed as he snooped a look at the settings on Ezra's IV monitor. "They got it back in place without any complications though."

Tanner shrugged then grimaced and readjusted the sling as he plopped down in the one extra chair in the room.

Chris hadn't even realized Vin was hurt until they'd gotten Ezra out of the chopper and he'd seen Vin's arm hanging at a wrong angle. How Tanner had managed to keep hold of Standish while the rest of them dragged them both back into the helicopter, Chris didn't know. His team never ceased to amaze him.

The door opened again but they'd all heard Buck and JD coming. Josiah followed, much more quietly.

"What's going on?" Chris asked, interrupting the younger duo's bickering, waiting for an update on the case.

"FBI is crawling all over the place," Buck answered. "They want in to question Ezra."

"That ain't gonna happen." Tanner sat up straighter in the chair.

"They get Little yet?" Nathan leaned against the windowsill, mirroring Chris' posture.

"No," JD shook his head. "They've hit all his known properties and there's nobody at any of them, not even housekeeping."

"None?" Josiah eyed the door as he asked, as if waiting for someone to try to get to Standish.

"They're coming up empty," Buck nodded at Ezra. "It's why they wanna talk to Ez." He put his hands into the big front pocket on his Bronco's sweatshirt.

Chris eyed JD, recognizing the look in the Kid's face. "What'd you find,JD?"

Dunne grinned, brushing his hair out of his face. "Not sure it's anything, but I've found a company name in Little's info, the stuff Ezra sent us. Called World Executive,but I'm pretty sure it's just a proxy. I think I remember seeing a couple of properties listed in the company's holdings…"

"Get on it." Larabee pushed away from the window and grabbed his jacket off the foot board of the bed where he'd tossed it earlier.

"I'm not positive," JD admitted.

"But you're pretty sure?" Buck asked.

"Yeah."

"That's enough for me," Chris admitted. "Nathan, you and Vin stay here. Keep the FBI away from Ezra."

"I can go." Vin pushed himself out of the chair.

"I know, but Ez will feel safer with you here," Chris countered. "You two were with him in the chopper. I'd prefer you be here if he wakes up before we get back."

Reluctantly, Tanner sat down again, not pointing out that Chris was also on the helicopter.

"JD," Chris went on. "You find out exactly where those properties are. Buck, you and Josiah and I are gonna get everything ready."

"We going to clue in the FBI?" Josiah asked.

Nathan crossed his arms in front of him, "Not likely they'd listen to us if we tried. They're focused on Ezra and nothing else."

"Fair enough. Let's go." Josiah opened the door and Buck and JD followed him out.

Chris paused at the door, looking back at Ezra's still form.

"We've got him, Cowboy," Vin reassured, suddenly sounding confident in his job of guarding Ezra.

It was what Chris needed to hear. "We'll be back."

* * *

Vin shifted uncomfortably in the bright orange plastic chair, wondering how Ezra ever put up with a dislocated shoulder. He knew Standish tended to have the reoccurring injury and rarely did the Southerner complain about it,but man, it hurt. Even after it was put back to right, it ached something fierce.

He watched Ezra stir slightly under the blankets, his movements agitated.

"Easy, Ezra." Tanner leaned closer to his friend. "You're ok now." He grasped Ezra's good arm lightly and smiled when after a moment Ez stilled. Vin didn't know if it had anything to do with him being there,but he hoped so. His smile slipped away when he heard agitated voices in the hallway.

"Shit," he muttered, hurrying to the door. Nathan had gone to find them some coffee a few minutes ago, he could hear Jackson arguing with someone now. FBI.

Vin opened the door in time to hear Nathan say, "You are not going in there."

Agent Mark Dorsey stood with two agents Vin didn't recognize, leaning threateningly toward Nathan. Jackson stood in front of the door, a coffee in each hand, blocking their way.

"You have no authority to stop me. This is an FBI matter. If you don't move…" Dorsey eyed Tanner angrily. "I'll have you both bodily removed from the premises."

Vin grinned in spite of his growing anger. "You could try."

"Move out of our way. We need to question Agent Standish." Dorsey redirected his full attention on Vin.

"Ezra's sleeping," Vin told him.

"He can wake up to talk to us."

"Not really." Vin kept his posture loose and deceptively relaxed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw yet another dark suit approaching, but kept his focus on Dorsey.

Dorsey stepped closer trying to use his height to intimidate, which might have worked if not for the fact that Nathan had him by at least an inch. "If you don't move. I'll have both of you brought in for obstructing this investigation."

Vin stepped forward, nose to nose with Dorsey, lowering his voice even more. "Try it."

Dorsey started to respond when another voice interrupted. "Back down, Mark."

Vin and Dorsey both turned in surprise at Darren Peters command.

"What?" Dorsey was three shades darker now, obviously angry with his partner as well as Tanner.

"Back off." Peters motioned at the closed door behind Nathan and Vin. "Standish isn't going anywhere and he's not going to be helpful when he's still hopped up on drugs from surgery. He's barely been out of recovery an hour now."

"But…"

"I'm sure these gentlemen will be more than willing to cooperate once their teammate has had some time."

Dorsey scowled at his partner, but backed down. He took the two other agents with him as he stomped away.

"Thanks." Nathan handed Vin his coffee and slipped back into Ezra's room.

Vin took a sip of the bitter sludge and then looked at Peters again, wondering why the FBI man was sticking around.

Peters, for his part, seemed to be searching for words. Finally he sighed and met Vin's curious gaze. "I've never in my life seen anyone do anything like you did today," he admitted.

Vin relaxed again. "Wasn't that different than rappelling or something."

"Right," Peters laughed. "Not what I meant, really." He picked at his suit coat in a manner that reminded Vin of Ezra for a moment. "You didn't even question Larabee. Hell, he didn't even tell you what you had to do, you just knew and were ready."

"We know each other pretty well," Vin admitted. He didn't understand how other teams worked, he just knew his own.

"Not sure I could ever do something like that."

"You could if you had to."

Peters looked weary as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "You've got some team, you know?"

"I know."

"What gets me," Peters looked down the hall after Dorsey for a minute before looking back at Vin. "You never even hesitated."

"Nope. I'll do anything I have to in order to save my team. My friends."

"Yeah, thing is- Standish never hesitated either. He just ran off that cliff as if he had no doubt that you'd catch him, no matter what."

In the chaos of the rescue and worry of the aftermath, Vin hadn't even thought about the lack of hesitation on Standish's part. The enormity of Ezra's trust almost overwhelmed him right there in front of agent Peters but he managed to hold it together.

"Yup," Vin managed a smiled and slipped back into the hospital room leaving the slightly awed agent alone in the hallway.

_tbc..._


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

Chris ducked easily behind a cluster of thick trunked trees, shivering slightly as snow slid from an overhead branch and landed in his collar.

It hadn't taken JD very long to shuffle through the layers of properties and businesses in the info they'd gathered on Little. Between the research and a "borrowed" satellite feed- they'd found what they were looking for.

Little's "cabin" could be described as palatial. It was set off the main interstate in dense woods that provided good cover for Chris, Buck, JD and Josiah.

Chris raised his binoculars as Buck adjusted the portable parabolic microphone they'd brought along. There was no sign of movement outside the grand cabin, but Wilmington flashed a grin and a thumbs up as soon as he slipped the headphones over his ears. "Got Little and…sounds like two flunkies," he whispered.

"What's going on in there?" Chris scanned the cabin's elaborate front porch. The windows were all covered with heavy curtains, impossible to see through.

"Sounds like Little is confirming flight plans," Buck answered, frowning.

"JD," Chris said without turning around.

JD had his laptop open and was already deep in a search. "I'll find the list of Little's aliases that Erza sent us."

"Wait, he's got another call." Buck shifted the mic. "One of his guys got a call- about Ezra. He's passing the phone to Little."

Chris looked at Buck. Josiah shifted closer, his own binoculars abandoned.

"They know where Ezra is," Buck reported. "Damn it."

"What?" Josiah demanded.

Buck met Chris' gaze. "He just ordered his guy to kill Ezra."

"I'll go." Josiah started to move but Chris stopped him.

"Wait." He looked at JD. "Do you have any sort of signal?"

Dunne shook his head even as he checked his cell. "No, I'm just searching files now. We're in a total dead zone unless I can get close enough to the cabin to tap into the phone lines."

Buck grunted. "Won't work, he's using SAT phones."

"Get back to the truck." Chris pointed at JD. "Take these," he said as he tossed the keys. JD caught them easily. "Get someplace where you can call Vin or Nathan and warn them that trouble is coming. Then call the fibbies and let them know we've got their man."

"Gotcha." Dunne scurried to his feet, handing the laptop off to Josiah. "Do you need me to show you…"

"Go." Sanchez waved him off. "We'll take care of Little here. He's not making it to the airport."

JD quickly and silently disappeared into the trees.

"You have a plan?" Buck asked as the three remaining agents turned their attention back to the cabin.

"Three of them, three of us," Josiah pointed out.

"I'm thinking 'Distract and Ambush' is our best option," Chris added.

"Well, we're damn good at that option," Buck grinned again and grabbed his pack. "And I've got the perfect distraction."

"Figured you would." Chris took the parabolic and earphones, holding one side up to his ear. "Hurry. Sounds like they're getting ready to move."

Buck scurried out from their cover, leaving Chris and Josiah to keep watch as he ran hunched over toward the front of the cabin and then easily slipped beneath Little's SUV.

Though time seemed to slow down and drag on, in reality it only took a couple of minutes for Wilmington to return. Wet, cold and grinning from ear to ear.

"Josiah, head there. "Buck pointed to where he meant on the far side of the SUV. "Just stay back until you get the signal. Chris, there."

"What's the signal?" Josiah asked, already moving.

"Trust me, you'll know."

The trio hurried into their positions settling just before the alarm on Little's car started to go off.

The cabin door burst open and all three men from inside stepped out onto the front porch, looking tense and anxious. All three were armed and looked ready to fire on anything that moved.

"What the hell is going on?" Little shouted over the blaring alarm.

"I don't know, maybe the cold set it off." One of his men approached the car tentatively as the other stepped down onto the porch steps.

"Turn that racket off," Little ordered angrily, lowering his weapon.

"Maybe we should check first…" the second guard started, but Little cut him off.

"Shut it down," he yelled.

The first guard shrugged and pulled out his keys. A lone beep cut the alarm and the woods were thrust into silence for a full second before the SUV exploded.

The vehicle jumped in place, it's windows and doors exploding outward as the hood came off and flew into the air. It clipped the first guard. The second, winged by shrapnel, stumbled down the steps and staggered in blind confusion.

On the porch, Little screamed in pain as shards of metal and glass cut at him.

Chris, Buck and Josiah were on the men before any of them could recover. The first was down, the second fell unconscious as Buck grabbed him. Little however remained alert and fuming.

"You fools!" he screamed, trying to scramble to his feet but stilled immediately as Chris grabbed him and cuffed him.

Blood dripped down the side of his face from a cut on his cheek. His right sleeve was shredded with tears. "You think you've won again, don't you, Larabee?" He taunted despite swaying where he stood. "Too bad. You're too late," he grinned, his bloody smile revealing two gaping holes where he'd lost teeth. "You're too late to save Standish this time. He's all mine," he wheezed as sirens sounded in the distance. "I win."

_TBC..._


	9. Chapter 9

_your reviews make me smile so much! thank you! (and thanks Sylvie for catching the spelling bad! I'll try to get back in and fix that!)_

_Part 9_

The hallway was easy for Darby to navigate. The pilfered doctor's coat and stethoscope seemed to open the way wherever he wanted to go as long as he acted like he belonged there. He snatched a clipboard and patient file as he walked past a nursing station. No one blinked twice.

Easy, he thought. Little had stressed the importance of getting the job done as soon as possible and was willing to pay for his demands. That made the rushed job worth it to Darby.

The room was unguarded, but Little had warned there might be someone on watch inside. Just in case, Darby inhaled deeply and took on his character. His mother always said he was a great actor. He used his talent now whenever he needed and it worked well for him. People tended to be trusting by nature, they took him at his word and his confidence that he was who he claimed to be. It made him very good at his job.

The hospital room's door opened with a soft swish. Pausing only slightly, Darby recognized the sounds of sleep. No one was alert or keeping watch.

The patient was asleep or unconscious, he really didn't care which. Tubes connected him to all sorts of machinery, but Darby'd been around enough to recognize the man wasn't intubated. He was breathing on his own which usually meant one was stable…not for long, Darby thought wryly.

On one side of the bed, draping a plastic chair, rested a gangly looking African American. His head rested against the wall behind him, his mouth slack with sleep. His arms crossed loosely across his chest. Darby wrote him off as no threat and stepped silently closer to the bed.

On the far side of the patient's bed, on two more chairs pushed together to form a kind of small couch beneath the window, another man stretched out, also asleep. He looked more dangerous to Darby, obviously some kind of cop, causing the hit man to watch a moment just to ensure the man really was asleep.

Minutes ticked by. The man's chest rose and fell with a regular rhythm. His breaths were deep and bordered on actual snores.

Darby smiled. Laying the clip board on the mattress beside his victim's legs, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. Uncapping it, he pulled out a vial and inserted the needle, pulling back the plunger. He enjoyed watching the syringe fill. The poison would work quickly and be untraceable. He reached for the patient's IV line careful not to set the alarm off. He looked at his victim's bruised face, wondering for a moment what kind of man he was killing today. Shrugging off his sudden melancholy, Darby moved the tip of the needle toward the plastic tubing…then froze.

"You don't want to do that."

The voice was low and soft, but the threat was clear. Darby glanced up, his hands frozen on the IV line, his thumb over the end of the plunger.

The man on the makeshift couch was still lying down, but now there was nothing relaxed about him. As his blue eyes met Darby's, he adjusted his hand gun and slowly sat up.

Darby smiled as he slowly began to press the plunger. "You're too late to stop me," he told the man, knowing the cop wouldn't shoot him here.

Something cold and hard pressed against his throat.

"I'm not."

* * *

Nathan pressed the blade of his knife harder into the stranger's neck, not letting up until the man gasped and dropped the syringe. Angrily, Jackson pulled his weapon back and shoved the fake doctor aside into Vin's waiting grasp. He ignored Vin's low threats, focusing only on removing Ezra's IV as quickly as possible. He didn't think the killer had had time to inject anything into the IV but he wasn't taking any chance. The alarm started to beep but he quickly shut it down. The nurses would come running but that would be good.

Vin cleared his throat. "Nate?" The question was there, unspoken as Tanner held the now cuffed assassin against the wall with his one good hand.

"He's ok," Nathan assured, still watching Ezra closely. All they could do was wait. He was sure. He had to be.

Tanner's phone rang, breaking the tension.

"Tanner."

Nathan listened as he continued to watch Standish breathe.

"Yeah, yeah, JD. We got him. Ezra's fine."

At Vin's words, Ezra stirred, but didn't wake and Nathan found himself smiling as the head nurse barged into the room.

* * *

Ezra ran. Through the snow, away from gun fire, away from images of blood and brains. His fear drove him faster and harder until the world fell away…and he flew.

He jerked awake suddenly, remembering it all. The case. Little. Brennan.

Panic flared, his fear boiling over even as he recognized the hospital sounds around him. He trembled in the bed and listened as the heart monitor sped up with his heart beat.

A hand touched his shoulder. Heavy, safe and reassuring.

"Ezra."

Standish opened weary eyes and found Chris' familiar face above him.

"You're alright now." Larabee squeezed gently and a calmness filled Ezra. He was safe.

Vin appeared beside Chris. "Hey, superman, gonna fly out of here soon?" Tanner grinned and Ezra remembered.

He was soaring through the air with death at his back and Vin had been there to catch him. He couldn't find his voice yet. Instead, his good hand scrambled in the blanket, searching until Vin reached forward and grasped it with his own.

Ezra closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth that spread from his shoulder and held tight to the hand in his, afraid that if he let go it would all disappear.

_TBC..._

_One more short scene to go._


	10. Chapter 10

_Part 10- epilogue._

Ezra leaned back against his pillows, closing his eyes and trying to relax as he listened to Chris lead agents Dorsey and Peters out of the hospital room.

It seemed like there had been a constant stream of people and nurses and doctors coming in and out of his room since he'd woken up from surgery and he was exhausted. Even throughout the night it seemed as if there was always someone needing to check on him or monitor his vitals to interrupt his rest.

Today, he'd managed to stay alert through Buck's rendition of the events at Little's cabin and the description of Little's irate reaction upon hearing that his hit man hadn't succeeded in taking Ezra out. Standish had grimaced as JD excitedly told of how the FBI had sent them a copy of the rescue footage and how it was being replayed all over the federal offices. If it wasn't needed as evidence, he was certain Dunne would have posted it on You Tube already. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate JD's enthusiasm or the rescue itself, it was just that with remembering the rescue came the memories of everything else that went with it.

Ezra squeezed the fingers of his good hand into a tight fist, trying to still his trembling and keep his fragile hold on his emotions. The interview with Dorsey and Peters had been hard. He'd expected them to be hostile and read that emotion easily in Dorsey. He'd been prepared for anger and accusations, but it was Agent Peters who'd led the interview and almost broken him. Peters had been kind and understanding, but the man hadn't been able to hide his obvious grief. Ezra had felt the weight of it as he'd recounted all that had happened to him and agent Brennan.

"You okay?"

Ezra opened his eyes and met Vin's intense gaze. He had assured both Chris and Vin that he could handle talking to the FBI on his own, but now he was grateful for their stubborn insistence on staying in the room during the interview. It'd helped to have them there.

He debated how to answer Tanner's question, but finally he settled with honesty.

"I keep replaying the first encounter in Little's office," he admitted, picking absently at a loose string on the blanket covering him. "Wondering if there was anything at all I could have done differently…" He sighed heavily and flopped his head back, blinking at the ceiling as guilt choked him. "But no matter what scenario I…"

"Ezra," Vin interrupted. "There was nothing you could have done for Brennan."

Ezra continued to stare at the ceiling. "I know," he whispered.

They sat in silence, Ezra fighting his emotions while Tanner offered his silent support.

Ezra wasn't sure how long they sat that way before Chris returned.

"They satisfied?" Vin asked as Larabee entered.

"For the most part. Helps that they've got Little in custody now."

"Is he still denying everything?"

"Trying to." Chris shook his head. "But with Ezra's statement and the footage from the helicopter, he's really got no chance. Plus that guy Darby is already talking about making a deal."

Larabee looked at Ezra. "You okay?"

Managing a smile, Standish answered, "I believe so."

Larabee eyed him a moment longer. "Liar."

Ezra huffed a laugh then grimaced. "I've been better," he admitted softly.

"Yeah," Chris patted Ezra's good leg lightly. "You'll get there.

Somehow the confidence in Chris' statement eased the knot inside Ezra, making it easier to breathe. He knew he had a ways to go to struggle through the fear and the remorse of the events of the last few days, but he also knew that in those moments when it felt like the world had dropped out from under him—all he had to do was reach out and there'd be someone there to catch him.

* * *

_thank you all so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed the story._


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